


The Leather Jacket Chronicles

by LokishaLaufeyfey



Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Autofellatio, Dildos, Frostpudding, Hiddlesfrost, Lokiston, LokixTom, M/M, Masturbation, Tomki, TomxLoki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-01
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 09:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/525911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokishaLaufeyfey/pseuds/LokishaLaufeyfey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has wanted Tom for such a long time that he can almost no longer stand it. Desperate for some sort of satiation, he masturbates in Tom's leather jacket, and only his leather jacket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Leather Jacket Chronicles

Tom was out.  Tom was out a lot, really, and each time Loki felt a similar thrill in the pit of his gut (though it was nothing in comparison to the thrill when Tom was _in_ the house, mind you) as he carefully tiptoed into the bedroom, a glamor of invisibility shrouding him _just in case._

Although he figured, the possibility of Tom walking in, seeing _this_ , was a thrill in itself.

Loki was quick as he thumbed through Tom’s closet, knowing exactly what he wanted, and exactly where Tom hung it, and then gently pulled the jacket from the hanger, shrouding it from visibility as well.

And then he dashed to his room, not quite in a run but in a speed far to eager, far too _thrilled_ to be a walk.  He locked the door, checking twice to make sure it would not open, shrugging off his coat hastily and throwing it over the chair.  Without wasting any more time, Loki stripped himself down, his trembling hands fumbling a bit with all of the buckles and clasps.  He groaned as he slipped off his trousers, letting his hand graze lightly over himself. 

Before he let himself fall onto the bed, he picked up the jacket he had taken from Tom’s room.  He took a long, slow breath into it. The scent made him shudder as he quickly put it on himself, feeling the warmth of it, the soft suppleness from having it worn so often, by Tom and, (not to his knowledge) Loki himself.

Closing his eyes, Loki lay down on the bed, making himself comfortable, but careful not to let any blankets cover him.  He needed to see himself entirely exposed, to see his already nearly-hard cock in the open as he bucked into the air, remembering that whatever he did as he touched himself, _Tom_ may have done too. 

His strokes were slow at first.  Loki savored the length of his cock, the length of _Tom’s_ cock, taking the time to really feel it, to let the skin glaze over the muscle slowly.  He actually had to force himself not to just fucking _jerk_ as fast as he could, like he did sometimes when Tom was in the house, when Loki was so hard from just watching him, watching the way his body moved, the way he licked his lips, bit his tongue.  The times Loki absolutely could not handle the throbbing pain in his groin, and he slipped off into the washroom, and fucked himself, just goddamn _fucked_ himself, until he’d shoot the warm white cum all over the mirror and wall. 

But this was not one of those days.  Every time he retrieved the jacket, lay down into his bed and looked at himself, really _looked,_ it was something very special, something he may not be able to do for another few months depending on how long Tom was working.  This way he could just imagine what it would be like to really make _love_ to Tom, to take it slow, _too_ slow, to groan and buck and just let his entire body tremble without inhibition, because that’s the way Tom would make love to _him._

Loki licked his lips as he stared at his cock, growing so hard that it nearly pressed up against his stomach, only from this amount of teasing.  He knew he shouldn’t be so turned on by his own cock, but the knowledge that Tom was _exactly like him,_ that his cock looked _just like this_ and got _this fucking hard and this fucking big_ nearly made him cum then and there.  He wanted to suck it, to lick it and suck that hot cum out of that fucking sensitive little slit and swallow every last tiny, warm, thick drop of it. 

Loki groaned as he bucked up into the air, clawing desperately at the sheets.  It was too much, it was too fucking much and he threw his legs over himself, grasping the backs of his thighs and just _tasted it,_ wrenching his neck forward to suck the swollen head into his mouth.  It hurt, his back was screaming and his neck bent terribly but the way it tasted just made him want to stay there for hours, to dip his hips in an impossible angle and suck on his already taut sac that looked so much like Tom’s. 

But the pain in his back eventually became too loud, and he swung his legs back to where they had begun, barely letting his hips hit the mattress before he was scooting to the dresser, fumbling until he found exactly what he needed.  It was a toy, one that Loki had (unashamedly) ordered himself, careful detail to accuracy meticulously explained.  It had cost him, but the supplier never asked why anybody would ever want an exact replica of their dick, and he did a very lovely job, so Loki was fully willing to pay up. 

He didn’t even bother preparing himself, other than a thin layer of oil that he had conjured in his own palm.  He layed it down on the bed before taking it, _all_ of it, into himself in one smooth motion.  He winced and gasped, usually not so careless as to fill himself so quickly, but his arousal was already so massive and painful that it would have been it’s own brand of torture _not_ to do so. 

Still fully impaled on the toy, Loki leaned to his nightstand again.  He produced a couple of photographs, his favorites, and set them on the bed in front of him.  He lifted himself, moaning shamefully loudly as the head of the toy grazed the inner walls of his rectum, slowly, deliberately sinking back down.  His own cock was beginning to leak, not drip, fucking _leak a steady stream of precum out the goddamn hole.  
_

He picked up the pictures, arranging himself so that he was now squatting over the toy.  The photographs weren’t pornographic, other than the dried cum all over them where Loki had burst before.  They were only pictures of Tom, doing normal things, but they got Loki so _fucking horny_ that cumming all over them seemed, at the time, to be the only possible way he could satisfy himself in any way, though he knew he wouldn’t be really satisfied until he had Tom’s real, pulsing, throbbing cock in him, and he came over him, over himself as Tom came inside, filling him. 

Loki was fucking the toy fast now.  His hand was clumsily trying to stroke himself, to get some sort of friction, _any_ goddamn friction, while staying out of the way of his knees. 

And then he looked at the pictures in his one hand, and he was caught by one of them, a close shot of Tom’s face, smiling gently, laughing, his nose slightly scrunched and his tongue between his teeth. 

That fucking _red tongue._

That _fucking red tongue that was already stained by Loki’s white, dry cum._

Loki did not realize he was close until he was cumming, and he collapsed himself all the way onto the toy, thighs trembling hard as his mouth gaped open, and he took a long, shaking breath, his sac tensing and sending the seed all over himself, all over the bed, all over the photograph.  He did not lift himself from the toy until every bit of the cum had been shot, and it left him feeling empty, in more than a single interpretation. 

It was with a heavy, sinking heart that Loki did not bother to wash himself off, but simply put on his clothes, put his things back into his dresser, and hung up the jacket. 

In fact, he was so very empty that it did not occur to him to check the jacket before he put it back.


End file.
